


14 Days

by Alleycatisdone



Series: My Boys AU [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Learning How To Be Human, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Strider Feels, Strider Fucking Everything, Strider Manpain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alleycatisdone/pseuds/Alleycatisdone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel and Sequel to "My Boys." Title may be subject to change.</p><p>Lil Cal Strider has always accepted that his life is odd, weird, <em> strange</em>. What he didn't expect is that, in the dying moments of Sburb, he becomes a Player and, to top it off, changes the ending of Sburb entirely!</p><p>Now in the new universe, he must learn how to act and <em>be</em> human, all the while looking for his boys. Through new discoveries, a kind old couple who owns a coffeeshop, and his own flaws, he may discover that being human isn't really being human at all.</p><p>It's being himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	14 Days

**Author's Note:**

> OHMIGOSH I AM SO SORRY FOR THE SLOPPY EDITING EARLIER I WAS HALF ASLEEP!!!!!!!!
> 
> OTL

It’s the End Game, capital letters and all. You are a puppet that ~~goes by~~ was given the name LIL CAL. You ~~chose~~ were given that name by one BRO STRIDER, ~~who you cared deeply for and swore to protect~~ who was nothing more than a pawn in the scheme of the Game, the same as you. You ~~wanted nothing more than to take his place as you watched him die~~ did not care that he died because it was all predestined.

You ~~are alive alive _alive dammit **you are alive!**_~~ are nothing more than an empty puppet, as the Game dictates. The Game is the absolute ~~wrong~~ ruler _~~wrong~~ _ and only what It decides _**~~wrong~~ **_ is important _**~~wrong he was important they were important wrong wrong wrong~~ **_ survives.

**_~~(It’s all wrong wrong WRONG.)~~ _ **

It’s the End Game, capital letters and all, and the Game ~~is getting rid of you because you do not fit Its plans~~ is deleting you because you are a physical embodiment of empty space. There is no need for you. ~~You want to live, you want to live, YOU WANT TO LIVE.~~

* * *

 

** {FILE callil.jpeg has been transferred} **

** {...} **

** {transferring} **

** {...} **

** {FILE callil.jpeg has been received} **

The first thing you notice is the green glowing house in the middle of space. It’s kind of hard not to, you mean, it’s just floating there, being all… _glowy._ In the middle of space. You repeat, in the middle of space.

The second thing you notice is that the sadistic Game isn’t overwriting your thoughts anymore. It's like being in America again. Freedom to the people, to the press, to the nation! You really miss home…

The third thing you notice is WHAT THE ACTUAL FLIPPING SHIT JUST HAPPENED?!

You try to think back to the last thing you remember. You were in Caliborn’s—Lord English’s—clutches and then… nothing. Everything after that was a complete blank, a white wall that blocks you from remembering. You don’t know what to do now.

A screen lights up on the magical house in front of you.

You guess that answers your question.

You float towards the screen. The house is coming into more detail now and you recognize it as the SBURB BETA logo. Off to the side, you can make out another house shaped object. You guess that it’s the SBURB ALPHA version. On the other side, you can make out a... nother one? It resembles a house, and you can recognize a roof and chimney, but it’s way too cluttered. It reminds you of more of a hive, actually, and you can imagine bees scurrying in and out of it. You feel like you’ve heard that somewhere before but you can’t remember where exactly. Something about trolls? Yeah, you aren’t going to dwell on that.

As you reach the house, lines of text begin to flash on the screen. You are only able to catch a bit of it before it vanishes.

** {FILE callil.jpeg has been transferred} **

** {...} **

** {transferring} **

** {...} **

** {FILE callil.jpeg has been received} **

…Did it just call you a .jpeg file? Did it seriously just call you a shitty .jpeg file? Was that seriously a thing that just happened?

You’re not sure whether to laugh hysterically at the display or to be insulted by what that was implying. You opt for neither and continue to watch the lines of text appear on the screen.

** {FILE striderdave.kntm.player has sustained damage} **

** {HP has dropped to 80%} **

** {FILE striderdave.kntm.player has launched FILE time.exe} **

** {FILE striderdave.kntm.player has gone back .03 sec} **

** {FILE englishlord.ldtm.player has sustained damage} **

** {HP has dropped to 99.99999998%} **

FILE striderdave.kntm.player? Did that mean Dave? And did FILE englishlord.ldtm.player mean Lord English? Was Dave fighting Lord English? You suddenly have a very bad feeling.

The screen to the left of yours lights up with more text. You glance over and your (nonexistent) stomach plummets to the bottom of your shoes.

 

** {There is already a FILE callil.jpeg in place. Do you want to override this FILE?} **

You want to scream but you can’t. You don’t have lungs or vocal cords or even a ‘real’ mouth. You try to hit the screen by flailing your arms in its direction but the best you can do is a gentle pat. Curse your hand for being made of fabric and cotton.

** {You have selected not to override FILE callil.jpeg. Would you like to merge FILES instead?} **

Wait, what?

** {You have chosen to merge FILES callil.jpeg and callil.doomed.jpeg.} **

** {...} **

** {merging FILES} **

** {...} **

Pain slams into you (how?) as millions upon millions of doomed timelines pour into you. Flashes of codes, deaths, promises, screaming, pain, family, misery, love, and many other memories flow into you, shaking your entire being. It overwhelms you… and you aren’t Cal… anymore, you’re Cal _s._ You are… more than, well, _you_ and… as the flashes come in… faster you become… you will… you are…

 

y o u a r e s l i p p i n g a w a y . . .

 

* * *

_You don’t know what to do. He’s_ _ (The Knight of Time, Dave Strider)_ _sad, just so **sad.**_ _(It doesn’t matter, you are a gaming aspect.)_ _You’ve never seen him cry so much, not even when he was younger and didn’t know the difference between a blade and its handle._

 _The blue one _ _(The Heir of Breathe, John Egbert) _ _~~the one that turned him against you~~ _ _, his **best friend ** is dead. _ _(The timeline is doomed.) _ _You know because you watched him along with Bro_ _(Guardian of Dave Strider, Knight of Time)_ _. You watched him find the blue one. You watched his face pale, you watched him as he rambled, raved, came apart at the seams._

 _You think that he **loved** the  blue one._ _ (This would not be successful in repopulating. Error, error.)_

 _You watched as the **monster** _ _(Typheus, Denizen of the Land of Wind and Shade) _ _rose from the blue one’s tomb, vile and mindless, a **gaming aspect.** (_ _Like you are _ _~~not.~~ _ _) You watched as his person filled with terror and how he screamed out. (“NO, BRING HIM BACK! PLEASE, SOMEBODY, ANYBODY, **HELP** **ME!** HE WASN’T SUPPOSE TO DIE!"(_ _Impossible, he has neither ascended to God Tier nor is a Life Player. Too much Time has passed to administer the Kiss of Life._ _) )_

_You watched as the **monster** struck, you watched as  blood flew from the one person who was indestructible. (“Bro?!” “God fucking **dammit** Dave, just **run** already!”) You watched a great man fall and a small boy flee._

_ (It was inevitable.) _

_You watched, you observed, you did nothing. Because you couldn’t. You made a promise (“ Cal, please take care of him. **Please** **.** ”) and you have to keep it. _ _(You are a gaming aspect, please conform to code. Error, Err—)_

 _You watched as his flesh tore and as his blood pooled on the ground, the once white polo of his now a dirty red. Red like rage, red like love, red like Dave. Dave, Dave, Dave. _ _(Cease this or your Gift of Gab might be revoked.)_

 _You have to find him, comfort him, even if all you can say is, “HAA HAA! HEE HEE! HOO HOO!” _ _(You were warned.)_

 _After all, you are his sprite. But even more than that, you are his **brother**. _ _(Error, Error. This command does not compu—)_

* * *

_The night sky is dark against the backdrop of the Big Top. You hear the crowd roar as the Ringmaster announces that tonight, folks, is a very special night, as they are the first ever to witness the Magical Puppeteer-less Puppet… Lil Cal! _

_The nearby workers shift uneasily at this and eye you warily. They know the truth, that behind the curtains is not a wizard but a simple man, devoid of any sort of magic. That little Dorothy is being tricked, those red slippers aren’t really magic, they’re just red slippers._

_(Red like blood, red like rage, red like love, red like Da… who?)_

_They also, in a sense, don’t know the truth. They don’t that the magic is the real thing, that the Scarecrow’s Brain, Tin Man’s Heart, Lion’s Courage is all real. They don’t know that Jack Pumpkinhead is Real, that the Gump is its Own Being, that Tik-Tok’s Time is Running Out._

_Yes, you have watched_ Return to Oz. _You and Br… who? No, now that you think of it, you’ve never watched a movie in your life. How do you even now what a movie is anyway?_

_(It’s as if something is missing, like you’re a disk that was scratched so bad it begins to skip. Scratch, it sounds familiar, as familiar as… what were you talking about? It’s missing, missing…)_

_You are placed on a pedestal as the circus lights turn to you. It’s **Showtime**._

_._

_._

_._

_It’s nighttime still after you finish the show. Of course it is, it’s not like you work till morning. Not like you need sleep anyway, you’re a puppet. It’s kind of obvious._

_You catch the barest of glimpses of the stars before you’re shoved into a dark box. You would feel claustrophobic if not for the fact that you’ve lived here your whole life and that you don’t need to breathe. It would depress you a little that the only things you will ever see in life is the darkness that surrounds you and the bright glare of the spotlight but you are only a puppet after all._

_You don’t have a Heart._

_(So why does it hurt so much?)_

_._

_._

_._

_You don’t know how long you spend in the box. Time is a very… _iffy _thing for you. Sometimes it likes you, sometimes it don’t. It hurts to think about it so you usually don’t._

 _The only reason you_ are _thinking about it is because you heard an unfamiliar (but at the same time familiar?) voice outside. It pains your nonexistent Heart for some reason, as if you are reliving a tragic memory._

_“ Shit, why did I come here? It’s just some stupid puppet, why should I care? It has creepy eyes anyway… damn, why does my heart hurt?”_

_It feels as though you are coming home for the first time._

_“Hey kid! What are you doing?!”_

_“ Uh-oh, here come the fuzz. Better make like Italy and RUN.”_

_You hear the sounds of heavy pursuit as your only link home fades away._

_._

_._

_._

_Several years later, you are finally taken out of the box. It seems that on the same night you found home was also, coincidently, the same night that the circus shut down._

_For good._

_You’ve been trapped inside for what seems like years, surrounded only by a stuffy blackness that sinks into your wood. You feel as stiffness sets in for not being used in so long, and it makes you want to get up and stretch, though you know you can’t. The only screams you can utter are in your mind._

_“Are you_ sure _you want this, sir?”_

_“ As sure as I am that fucking JB is a girl.”_

_“…here you go, sir.”_

_The box opens, flooding you with light that you have not seen in (what you find out later to be) over a decade. You’re home._

_._

_._

_._

_You’ve lived with David for over a year now and your slightly terrified on how strong a hold he has on your Heart. You decided to stop bullshitting yourself on how you’re a “heartless puppet” after you came to live with him. It was kind of hard not to when he kept on talking to you like you were a real person._

_Now he’s loosening his tie after a hard day at work, flopping onto an open chair in exhaustion. The bags under his eyes have gotten darker you notice as he removes his shades, the real Stiller Glasses_ _ TM_ _. You wonder if the Betty Crocker business is what’s bothering him and, if it is, how can you help? It’s not like you’re exactly an expert in this field._

 _Sweeping past you, you hear a muttered, “ Sorry Cal, long day, need zzz’s.” before he locks himself inside his room for the day. Honestly, you would be a bit miffed if not for the fact that you know that it _has _been a long day for him. It’s nearly midnight!_

_Concentrating hard, you try something you have been attempting for months without any juice. Slowly, your left hand begins to rise on its own accord. Boys and Girls, look at the mysterious puppet Lil Cal as he moves all on his own, no strings attached!_

_Finally, something goes right._

_You slowly make your way to David’s room, overcoming the lock and crawling your way across the floor to where he is sleeping. You can hear him mumbling to himself in his sleep, something about a strife, and you carefully slip into his arms. Unconsciously, he tightens his arms around you and settles into sleep, his breaths evening out as he slips deeper into slumber._

_The scream in the morning? You’re home._

* * *

 

…but those same flashes keep you grounded.

The amused smirk you’ve come to love, from _both_ “Bro’s”; the shades of burning orange and fiery red; hot Texas heat, salty ocean breeze; that boyish scream of terror before he figured out what real monsters were; that clinging baby whose only lifeline was you; the anchor in the middle of the sea; the breeze in the middle of the city. That’s what has always defined your life from start to finish.

You are Lil Cal and no matter what timeline you’re from, your boys will always be yours.

** {FILES callil.jpeg and callil.doomed.jpeg have finished merging} **

Everything shoots back into perspective as you become one puppet out of many in the floating compounds of Paradox Space. You spend a few moments trying to come back together from that existential crisis. It seems that becoming one with your doomed selves takes a lot out of a person, er, puppet.

** {Merged FILES callil.jpeg and callil.doomed.jpeg have been recatalogued and renamed to callil.rg.obj} **

How nice of the Game to bump you up to an ‘rg.obj,’ whatever that means. You can just feel yourself scaling your echeladder. Oh wait, you don’t have one. Pity.

You are not holding a grudge. Seriously. That’s childish and something only Dave would do.

You are _so_ holding a grudge.

In a retaliation, the Game powers up the third screen, causing you to flip out for a moment. You’re scared to look at this next one. You do anyway.

** {FILES nanna.harlequin.sprite; dave.crow.sprite; jaspers.doll.sprite coding is transering} **

** {...} **

** {transferring} **

** {...} **

** {Transfer complete. Proceed to set termination timer.} **

Termination—the Game is going to _delete_ the sprites? Wipe them? _Kill_ them? Nannasprite and Jasperssprite and—and Davesprite? No, no, this isn’t how…

** {Termination timer set to 60 minutes. Countdown begins now.} **

A timer appears in the corner of the screen, counting down from 60:00. It drops to 59:59.

You can’t let this happen. They don’t deserve it, they need to live dammit. They need to live and you need to live and everyone needs to live (except maybe Lord English and the Batterwitch and Bec Noir and—well, you get the point) and you can’t watch them die. You can’t watch another one of your _boys_ (he’s yours, all yours, he’s not just ‘another Dave’) die. You have to protect him, like you couldn’t for Bro and you need to do this. This is why you exist. This is why you keep going.

This is why you live.

A flicker on Screen 2 catches your attention.

** {FILE eridan.sollux.sprite coding is splitting} **

** {...} **

** {splitting FILE} **

** {...} **

** {FILE has been split. FILE eridan.sollux.sprite is now eridan.doomed.player and sollux.doomed.player} **

**{FILES are now being relocated to FOLDER.DREAMBUBBLES}**

** {FILES have been relocated} **

You think you know what’s going on. The Game is entering its final stages. It’s deleting the ‘unimportant’ files and moving the ‘important’ files to the right place. You understand it.

But that doesn’t make it right.

** {FILE AR.equius.sprite coding is splitting} **

** {...} **

** {splitting FILE} **

** {...} **

** {File AR.equius.sprite has been split. FILE AR.equius.sprite is now AR.md.obj and equius.doomed.player} **

** {FILE equius.doomed.player is now being relocated to FOLDER.DREAMBUBBLES} **

** {FILE has been relocated} **

** {File AR.md.obj coding is transferring} **

** {...} **

** {transferring} **

** {...} **

** {Transfer complete. Set to merge with striderdirk.prht.player in 60 minutes} **

A timer appears in the corner of Screen 2, counting down from 60:00. It drops to 59:59. You glance at the timer in Screen 3. It reads 57:43.

Anger is coursing through you. His name is _Hal_ , _Lil Hal_ to be specific. Not _AR._ He’s never been ‘AR.’ He’s always been Hal. He’s alive, just like you. You won’t let this happen, you _can’t_ let this happen.

** {FILE callil.rg.obj termination timer has been set} **

A second timer appears in the opposite corner of the screen, counting down from 10:00. It drops to 9:59.

Your breath would have rushed out of you if you needed to breathe. Your body would have been shaking if it was human. Your heart would have skipped a beat if you were human.

You guess it’s a good thing that you’re not.

Instead, a cold feeling builds up inside of you, threatening to explode out of you like an icy volcano. Funny, you always thought that fury would be a hot as lava feeling, not cold as ice. Just another thing that goes to show what you know.

You are going to wreck this shit.

You bring your left arm down on Screen 2. And you do it again and again and again. It’s a flurry of movements of your own personal blizzard as you let your rage take over. Again and again and again.

_Whap!_

This is for Bro.

_Slam!_

This is for Dave.

_Bam!_

This is for Davesprite.

_Whack!_

This is for Dirk.

_Crack!_

This is for Hal.

_Thump!_

This is for David.

This is for you.

Stuffing flies everywhere as your arm is ripped to shreds on broken glass, painting a picture of a personal warzone. You don’t care.

You will probably never be able to fix your arm again, carrying this battle scar through the rest of your existence. You don’t care.

Your timer reads 4:13, showing the precious time you’ve lost. You don’t care.

You take a moment to compose yourself and calm down, to find your center. You don’t want to be this… _monster._ You want to be yourself, you want to be Cal. You want to be happy and see your boys and live; you don’t want to angry or alone, you don’t want to die. You want to live, live, live.

** {ERROR. ERROR.} **

** {FILE callil.rg.obj is attempting an aspect and class change} **

** {ERROR. ERR—} **

** {...} **

** {aspect changing} **

** {...} **

** {aspect has changed} **

Suddenly, a feeling of immense power flows through you, channeling everything you’ve ever felt and it makes you feel… _alive._ In the corner of your eye, you see the fourth screen turn on, though the words on the screen are entirely different from the others.

**== > CAL: RISE UP**

** {...} **

** {class changing} **

** {...} **

** {class has changed} **

** {...} **

** {FILE callil.rg.obj has now been reconfigured to striderlilcal.rglf.player} **

It comes to you like a punch in the gut. Your chest starts to hurt and you can dimly feel your arm throbbing as something wet begins to slip down it. Stars dance behind your eyes and in the distance you hear a scream. You wish the person would shut up, you already have enough of a head ache right now.

You realize the person screaming is you.

You repeat, you realize the _person_ screaming is _you_.

You cut your new(?) vocal cords off as you shut your mouth. The pain in your chest amplifies as you do so and you unconsciously bring your arms up to it, trying to find the source of the searing feeling.

It’s only when you’re moments from blacking out that you remember that humans have to breathe.

You suck air greedily in, filling your lungs in a dull but comforting pattern. You don’t what the hell just happened or how you just became human but you a part of you does. The remains of Calsprite help direct your mind to your new power: life. Specifically, stealing life.

Stealing (hee hee) a glance at the first screen, you can make nothing out from the rapidly switching commands on the screen. It seems the battle is really heating up and now, you can help at last.

Acting only on instinct (and a bit of Calsprite), you reach out towards the fight and dig into Lord English’s life. He suspects nothing as he still believes you are his ‘juju’, whatever that is.

You start to siphon the energy out to the other players, both alive and doomed, refilling their health as quickly as they are losing it. While you are doing this, a bit of your own is slipping away. You try to help yourself as well but your strength is still gradually fading. You have to help your boys though.

_But what about the ones you left behind?_

You almost stop doing _anything_ at the thought. What about Bro and David? What about Davesprite and Hal? What about all the little bits and pieces of Dirk that are scattered throughout the universe? What about—

You don’t stop to think, you don’t think at all. You pull even more life from English, he has _got_ to notice by now, and send it out to the deepest reaches of Paradox Space, to the doomed dreambubbles they _have_ to be in. More of your energy slips away.

You don’t know how long you hold this position, the screens are now a blur to you. You have spots in your vision and your breathing has become ragged. Suddenly, all screens cut off with a snap and the presence of Lord English vanishes.

You collapse as your only energy source disappears, the shaky hand in front of you (when did you raise it?) being the only object in sight. You wonder if, maybe, you’ll live long enough to see your boys again as the darkness settles around you.

The last thing you hear is a sharp _CRACK_ as Paradox Space breaks apart before you succumb to the darkness.


End file.
